


far longer than forever

by VolxdoSioda



Series: FFXV Kink Meme Fills [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Ardyn is reborn as Noct and Luna's kid, Character Death, Feels, Gen, Noctis is a good dad, kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-07-15 16:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolxdoSioda/pseuds/VolxdoSioda
Summary: Ardyn knows by all accounts, he should be dead.And yet, he is distinctly not dead, sitting in a high chair while his father attempts to gently urge him to open his mouth and accept the... mush masquerading as baby food.His father, Noctis Lucis Caelum."C'mon starshine. One bite?"Ardyn stubbornly continues to keep his mouth shut. He should be dead, not reborn as Noctis and Lunafreya's godforsaken child and legacy. And yet here he is. The Gods are assholes, he's completely convinced.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Prompt: Rebirth in the afterlife. (happy ending with the chocobro)_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _What if Ardyn get a second chance in the afterlife and he end up being noctis and luna child? ..._
> 
>  
> 
> _+Ardyn remember everything from his previous life_  
>  ++Ardyn's POV  
> +++He end up loving his parents  
> ++++Noctis' shock when he realize who is child is.

**1\. Ardyn**

 

Ardyn knows by all accounts, he should be dead. 

And yet, he is distinctly  _not dead,_ sitting in a high chair while his father attempts to gently urge him to open his mouth and accept the...  _mush_ masquerading as baby food.

His father,  Noctis Lucis Caelum.

"C'mon starshine. One bite?"

Ardyn stubbornly continues to keep his mouth shut. He should be dead, not reborn as Noctis and Lunafreya's godforsaken  _child and legacy._ And yet here he is. The Gods are assholes, he's completely convinced.

Or maybe he and Noctis are simply too tightly intertwined to let go of one another. Who can say at this point, really?

Luna comes up behind Noctis, smiling when she sees Noctis holding on to the tiny spoon with the appropriately-sized dollop of mush on it. "Still trying to get him to eat it?"

Noctis glances over, smiling at her. "I'm sure Aurelio will eat when he's ready."

Ah, and there's that ever-going confidence of his. Too trusting, too kind, too assured things will work out. Even in the aftermath of the greatest battle the brat will no doubt have ever had, he's still so soft.

(Once upon a time, Ardyn would have loved him for that. Deeply, and without remorse. Back when he'd been a Healer, his first meeting with Noctis would have been flirting, promising, and he would have had Noctis swooning over him. But Fate is nothing if not cruel.)

Luna crouches beside her husband, looking at Ardyn. "Are you not hungry, my star?"

Ardyn pointedly turns his head away. It's not because it feels awkward,  having such a loving and gentle gaze directed at him. And it's certainly not because he feels guilty over what he did. It's not. 

He's just. Not interested in them.

But he  _is_ hungry, and given mush is going to be mush no matter what until his teeth grow in (and won't that be fun), he's going to have to either eat what Noctis is offering him, or go hungry. And he'd rather not go hungry. This body isn't used to it, and he knows his parents (eugh) will worry if he doesn't eat.

Grudgingly, he waits until Noctis shifts a little, and turns back to face him. Eyes the spoon. Glares at Noctis.

Noctis evidently knows more than he lets on. "Yeah, I know. Not very appetizing, right? But it's just for a little bit."

 _You,_ Ardyn thinks as he grudgingly opens his mouth and allows Noctis to feed him.  _have absolutely no right to sound so understanding. Or be so kind. You absolute idiot._

Bleagh,  _peaches._

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

The worst part of being reborn as Noctis's heir isn't the mushy food, or the diaper changes (although that's utterly humiliating, even if he's somewhat grudgingly proud of Noctis for taking to it like a sahagin to water), it's the fact that people want to  _touch him._ Pinch his chubby cheeks and call him cute and coo over him like he's a goddamned baby animal instead of, oh you know, a  _living breathing human being._

Thankfully, Noctis is one hell of a protective parent about who gets to hold Ardyn - sorry,  _Aurelio_ \- and who doesn't. Gladiolus, Ignis, Prompto and Cor make up the list alongside Luna, and they're not terrible company. They don't pinch his cheeks or coo. Gladio likes showing him battle moves and take him to training locations, Prompto takes him around to see the sights and take pictures of him modeling next to fauna and flora (he makes a  _fine_ model, thank you very much!), Cor lets him sit quietly while he does paperwork or walks him around the gardens if he's feeling fussy, and Ignis sits him on the table and talks cooking with him. 

Honestly, it's not... terrible, this life. Noctis and Luna are good parents, loving and protective and making Ardyn feel guilty as sin every time he sees them. 

 _Why me?_ he wants to demand of the Crystal, of the Six.  _I tried to put a sword through him. I nearly killed her. I destroyed everything they loved. It should be someone else. Regis, or Jared, or one of the others. Not me._

But he doubts even if he did demand it, the Crystal would answer. Or they would feed him riddles until his head felt swollen enough to make him leave.

Life is fine, and then his teeth start coming in, and Ardyn spends a lot more of his time grumbling and screaming because cheek pinches make his gums feel like they're on fire. 

Here, Noctis comes to the rescue with chewtoys and fingers, and truth be told Ardyn prefers the fingers. They're softer, and Noctis puts out a continuous cold spell when Ardyn pops them into his mouth. He does his best not to gnaw his father's fingers off in return for this blessing, only lightly chewing on them when he needs to do so. The more savage gnawing he saves for the rings and the toys, wearing his way through them at a rapid pace as his teeth begin to come in.

Nobody says anything about Noctis bringing Ardyn along to meetings, or how he'll plop Ardyn in his lap and offer him his non-dominant hand to soothe the ache with while he goes over reports. Probably because Noctis is King of Kings, and the Dawnwalker beside. 

Yes, they've actually started calling him that. Ardyn supposes 'Bringer of Light' was too much of a mouthful. 

The day someone  _does_ try to say something, it's the middle of the night. Noctis and Luna have been at a fancy meet-and-green banquet to solidify ties between nations again. The last of Ardyn's teeth are coming in, he's tired, hurting, and  _he wants Noctis._

Noctis has made it known among the servants that he is always open if they need him for something related to Aurelio. And so a maid is quick to catch what he wants, scoop him up and bring him, blanket and all, to his father. 

"Apologies for the disturbance sir, but the little Prince is having a rough time getting down. I think his gums are still hurting a bit."

Noctis puts down the champagne glass in his hand, and nods to the Senator he was just speaking with, an oily-looking man  Ardyn immediately scowls at, because  _he's_ scowling at Noctis. "You needn't apologize. Hello my little star." He runs gentle fingers over Ardyn's cheek, humming as he finds the swollen back teeth with ease. "On it's last legs, and not going down without a fight. Nothing we can't handle, hm?" 

Ardyn settles as soon as Noctis' fingers are in his mouth, and the lowest Blizzard he can manage is bleeding into his aching gums. His father chuckles, kisses his head as he tucks him a little more securely into his chest, humming a low tune as he sways side-to-side. In a matter of moments, Ardyn can feel his eyes getting heavy.

Curse Noctis and his excellent parenting skills.

"Sire," the Senator says in a tone that Ardyn takes to mean  _aren't you aware I'm more important right now than whatever you have going on,_ "The boy can wait, surely. This treaty is--"

"Not going anywhere," Noctis says, and while his tone is light, it's underscored with enough steel that Ardyn's surprised one of his swords hasn't appeared in hand. "My son is my first priority, Senator. If you take issue with that fact, please inform me so I can find another to finish our conduct with."

Ardyn smiles.  _Hah, I'm more important than you. Take that, sour-faced rat._

He drifts off like that, to the sound of sputtering disbelief and Noctis' steady heartbeat.

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

With his teeth in, Ardyn tackles the next big step. Walking. He skips crawling because he's on a schedule, damn it, and he has no patience to go step by step. Even if his parents would probably prefer that. Noctis certainly would, if the amount of times he's caught Ardyn as he's fallen are any indication.

So he clings to tables and chairs and eventually figures out his balance enough to be able to go a small distance. And then a little further after that, until eventually he decides he's good enough to get from one end of the palace to the next. Mainly, from his room to Noctis' throne.

Two thousand plus years of sneaking help out here, even with the palace as full as it is. After all, nobody expects the Lucis heir to be walking so early, let alone trotting along. So when Ardyn slips into the throne room, where Noctis is calmly going over reports with his Shield, Cor and Luna, he doesn't even bother waiting. He just runs up, screaming, "DAH!" as he goes.

For dramatic effect, you understand.

Noctis' gaze jerks up, his eyes widen and his jaw drops comically. " _Aurelio?!"_

Luna's gaze is much the same as Noctis practically tumbles down the steps to get to him, and lands heavily on his knees, amazement all over his features. "When did-- how did-- Cor, did you teach him to walk?"

"Not I, Majesty." Although Cor seems impressed as well. "And the last time I checked, neither have the maids, or anyone else."

"Wasn't he in his room?" Gladio asks. "The little guy took a stroll."

Noctis laughs, a bright, happy sound that Ardyn decides he rather likes. There's pride in his eyes when he looks down, and Ardyn holds himself a bit higher. "Gods, that's..." He trails off, unable to find a word for it. But he scoops Ardyn up and holds him, and Ardyn smugly lets himself be held. Eventually, Noctis gets off the floor and walks back up to sit on his throne, where Luna takes Ardyn and coos over him, telling him what a sweet baby he is, and how loved he is.

This is the moment Ardyn unwittingly falls in love with Noctis and Luna, and some part of his cold, black heart starts beating again. Where his goals shift from wanting to be an adult again, to wanting to make his parents proud, and wanting to ensure they stay alive. 

After all, Noctis lost his mother in an attack that shouldn't have happened, and lost his father not long after. What's to say the same thing won't happen to him later in life?

So his next goal is to become as strong as he once was, to protect the people that matter to him.

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

He spends the next ten years training with Gladio and Cor and Ignis and Prompto and even Noctis himself, learning how to fight. How to protect himself. It's a brutal pace, Ardyn pushing himself to learn more, to know everything he can. He demands history lessons from Ignis about everything and anything, listens to Noctis talk about his adventures, sneaks mission reports from the Kingsglaive and Crownsguard past Cor and Gladio, and absorbs it all like a sponge.

They still have enemies, after all. Niflheim didn't just  _go away_ just because Noctis won back the light. It's slow moving, but Ardyn can see it happening now; the armies are rising, they're stepping into places where they don't belong. There's a new king and a new Chancellor, but they're trying the same old tricks as before, trying to make the kingdom what it once was. Except this time they don't want the Crystal - they just want power. Power and control over everything.

And to be honest, were it not for them, Ardyn's re-introduction to his parents probably wouldn't have gone as smoothly as it did.

The day it happens, they're traveling to Luna's ancestral home to visit Ravus' grave. They're halfway to Galdin when the first attack happens, and the car they're in - the Regalia Mark II - gets hit. The sturdiness of the car is what saves their lives, and so when Noctis and Luna get out with their guard, Ardyn goes with them.

It's his first real taste of battle in a long time, and it's just as he remembers it. Messy and brutal, with a combination of human and daemons pouring out at Noctis. Noctis and Gladio and Ignis and Prompto are all fighting, and Luna is casting spells along with the handful of Crownsguard that followed them. Ardyn watches as his father and retainers duck and dance around each other, and he's the only one to see one of the soldiers take aim at Noctis' unprotected back.

It's not even a conscious thought, and it feels just like breathing. He's grasping onto his old Armiger, which became part of Noctis' with his fall (loser serves winner, to the victor go the spoils, etc etc), and hurling a sword into the opponent before he can stop himself. The swords that were once his bloom crimson again at his touch, and Noctis looks up to this sight - the sight of him  _commanding_ his old arsenal, the weapons that were once Noctis' falling back into his possession with nary a word. Luna follows his gaze, and Ardyn turns his head to meet his death head-on.

He expects a lot. He gets some of what he expects. There's shock in Noctis' gaze, memories, knowledge. Ardyn bows his head to the Chosen King, his heart thundering in his chest now, his palms suddenly clammy. It's been nice, being their son for a time. But there's no way they'll let him live. Not after everything they did.

The fight is still ongoing, so there's not really any time to deal with this immediately. As soon as Noctis and Luna go back to fighting, Ardyn plunges into the fray himself. Size doesn't determine anything in battle, and soon their enemies are dead or gone, and Ardyn's letting his powers fade back. His back is turned to the party when he hears the footsteps, quick and loud, coming at his back.

He bows his head, and waits for his death.

Noctis' hand is on his shoulder then, whirling him around, and he's being embraced before he can say anything. 

He swallows, not daring to believe it's real. That Noctis has -  _is_ \- forgiving him.

"If you're going to kill me," Ardyn says. "Then please don't yank me around. Just do it."

Noctis pulls back to look Ardyn dead in the eyes. There's the old fire there, a deep resolution and determination, but none of the scathing loathing or  horror Ardyn's been expecting. "I'm not going to kill you," Noctis says. He brushes a bit of hair out of Ardyn's face. "How much do you remember?"

"All of it. I've known since I was born."

"I love you," Noctis says without preamble, and Ardyn flinches. No, no, it can't be that easy. 

"I hurt you."

"You did. Back then. But this isn't back then, Ardyn. As far as I'm concerned, the slate's wiped clean. Fresh start. You want to be someone different this time? Go right ahead. But I'm not going to kill you for something you did way back when."

"Nor will I," Luna's voice says, and she comes to crouch beside her husband and child. "There's nothing to be gained from holding on to hatred. I never hated you to begin with."

"It can't be so easy," Ardyn whispers, and tries to step back. His parents won't let him; they each have a hold on his shoulder. "You- you have to... to hate me. To want to destroy me. To do  _something._ "

"Okay then," Noctis says calmly. "You're grounded for three weeks for interfering in a battle. No sweets, and any trips outside you take have to be with a guard."

Luna nods. "That's reasonable then." She leans down and kisses Ardyn's forehead, and he feels her magic flood him. He can taste a truth spell on his tongue. "Do you hate us?"

"No," he chokes out before he can stop himself. "I love you so much I want to burn the world to keep you safe."

Noctis chuckles. "Now there's a mood I can get behind."

"So I take it this means we're  _not_ offing the Lucian heir?" Ignis drawls, and Ardyn flinches because  _shit, how could he forget he's surrounded by Noctis' people?_ One of his daggers is still in hand, and Ardyn eyes it carefully. 

"No," Noctis says, and stands. "And anyone who tries to kill my son will answer to  _me._ "

And there's the King now, standing there with a straight back and a gaze of wrath on all of them. Ardyn waits for someone to throw a weapon, to declare Ardyn's a bastard or remind Noctis of what went down. 

But none of them do. The four Ardyn spent so much time torturing look at him, and then just nod.

"Yeah, alright," Gladio agrees. 

"If that's what you want," Ignis says.

"Sounds good," Prompto acknowledges.

Cor eyes him a little harder, is a little slower to nod, but he does nod.

"Then," Noctis says. "If that's all done, we'd best be on our way."

It's only later, when they're under attack again, when the four spread out and suddenly Ardyn is being protected and sheltered and warned of incoming attacks, that he realizes why they forgave him so easily. Why nobody is holding a grudge. It's because they can read him, they know he loves his parents with his very being, and even outside of the confession he made, they know he would break kingdoms to keep them all alive now.

The past is the past, and the future is now, as they say. And Ardyn's had enough of tripping over the future because he's staring so hard at the past. This time, he's going to make sure there's a happy ending.

For everyone.


	2. Chapter 2

**2\. Noctis**

 

Aurelio Lucis Caelum comes into the world a year after dawn returns to the world, and Noctis is simultaneously terrified and relieved by his arrival. Terrified because holding Aurelio is living proof that he's a father - the war is over for now, Ardyn gone, Luna his wife, peace restored. It's not a fever dream he's locked himself into believing to be real. It's  _real._

For a long moment after Luna hands Aurelio over, all Noctis can do is stare at the tiny, naked thing. It's hideous, but Noctis can't find himself to care as every protective instinct he's gained over the years wraps itself around his brain and tells him  _this is your son, your legacy, your heir, you must protect him until he is strong enough to stand on his own._

He looks at Luna, and she laughs. He feels a little like he's been hit between the eyes by one of his own weapons, and he probably looks like it too. "It's okay," Luna tells him. "We'll figure it out together."

And they do. They have to, because Aurelio is so  _tiny_ and  _vulnerable,_ and suddenly Ignis isn't having trouble fighting to get Noctis out of bed as he is trying to coax him away from his son's crib in the mornings. Because Noctis wakes at dawn now, and will turn on the coffee pot and just go and sit in the nursery and drink his coffee while Aurelio sleeps. 

He's mesmerized, astounded, for lack of better words, by Aurelio's  _everything._ There's something in his chest that, no matter how many times a day or how often he lays eyes on his son, just feels like it wants to overflow. 

 _If this is anything like what dad felt like when I was born,_ Noctis thinks as Ignis gently steers him out of the room one morning.  _I'm suddenly beginning to understand why he was so afraid when I almost died._

If anything happened to Aurelio, he thinks he might just burn the world down. Fuck the gods, fuck whoever, there's no point if his son  isn't alive. 

For the first few weeks, Luna and Aurelio stay in the inner chambers, away from the public eye. Noctis attends to anything they need, dropping other things down the scale as needed. It ruffles some feathers, because the public wants proof that the royal line of Lucis will continue, that they will have a protector even if the Wall is no longer there.

Part of Noctis wants to keep his son and wife hidden away as long as possible, terrified by the idea of showing vulnerability. It's Cor that helps him here; having served two Kings before Noctis, he knows the procedure for introducing Aurelio to the world, and calming Noctis' rage at the idea of having to share his child with the world. 

"Think of it like showing him off to extended family. A brief introduction, a briefer snap of photos, and we all part ways. I know it's hard, but it's the best way to handle these things."

And so it is. Luna and he stand on the steps of his home days later, Aurelio tucked close beneath the folds of his clock, and once Luna is done giving introductions, he steps forward and carefully pulls back his cloak. 

The sighs, gasps and coos that run through the audience soothe his nerves, though not half as much as the amount of Kingsglaive and Crownsguard he has around him, not to mention the presence of Gladio on his right, Cor on his left, Prompto up on the roofs with a rifle and Ignis with his daggers, ready to disarm anyone at a moment's notice. Aurelio could not be more protected, but Noctis is still more than eager to wrap his boy up and take him back into the depths of his ancestral home. 

And as ever, his paranoia is on point. Just days later, someone tries to break in to the citadel to get their hands on the Prince - it's Cor and Ignis who find them first, and the threat is swiftly dispatched before Noctis even makes it out of his chair. It doesn't stop him rushing to the nursery to ensure Luna and Aurelio are alright.

"He's fine, Noctis." Luna is far too calm, Noctis decides. His heart feels like it wants to thud its way out of his ribcage, and his temper is shot to hell. He wants vengeance on whoever was gunning for Aurelio - it's just a shame Cor and Ignis were far too fast for his own good. 

Cor smiles when Noctis tells him later, "It should have been me."

"No, Majesty. Trust me when I say this, but it shouldn't have been. It must never be, because there's far too much you would do for your son. Regis was much the same when you were born - every break in, every missed opportunity at your head, he wanted jurisdiction over. But if I'd let him have his way, much of our peace would have gone up in smoke."

Cor, as ever, is right. 

It takes until Aurelio's eyes open, and he starts showing a little personality, but Noctis realizes Cor was right. He can't be the one to administer judgement to those who would take a shot at his son. Because otherwise, he'd be lopping heads off left, right and center, and be labeled a tyrant. He can't do that, not to Luna, and not to Aurelio.

So instead of focusing on the things he can't control, he focuses on parenting Aurelio the best way he can.

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

His son is grumpy more often than not, Noctis learns, with the kind of  _I'm judging you_ look only a baby can possess. He's slow to take to people, and people he doesn't like often get screamed or cried at, which makes it even more difficult to pass him around and let people touch him. Noctis tells himself that handing him off to Cor, Gladio, Ignis or Prompto counts as 'letting him meet people', but he knows that's a load of shit. Luna knows it too, if the fond exasperation he feels from her is any indication.

"One day," she tells him between morning kisses, "You're going to have to let him go off on his own."

"I will," he says, but he's already plotting ways to prevent that. He stops thinking about it for a while when Luna rolls him over and starts touching him, but when they go down to breakfast and find Gladio engaged with Ignis over proper first foods for a baby, it's back in his head.

"Your son," Gladio says, "Is refusing to eat."

"Oh, so now he's my son? But he's Luna's when he's behaving."

Luna smiles, and kisses his cheek. "That's how it works."

Their first foray into feeding is... interesting. Aurelio appears completely disgusted and uninterested by the food Noctis is trying to feed him, but at last relents with something like a deep grudging disgust. His little feet kick and he whines even as he takes another bite. Mashed peaches are evidently not his favorite. Mashed anything is disgusting, in Noctis' opinion, but they all have to start somewhere.

"You're doing awesome," he tells Aurelio after the fifth bite. "I'm so proud of you."

That seems to soothe some of the ruffled feathers, even if his son glares at him like he's the worst thing to grace this side of Insomnia since Ifrit. But he raises his arms to demand 'up', and lets Noctis rock him to sleep, so Noctis counts it as a solid win.

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

And then comes the teething. 

The worst moment is that first morning when he goes to feed Aurelio and finds his boy snarly and unhappy, screaming and kicking. Noctis is terrified he's done something wrong, right up until he notices the swelling on each cheek. Gingerly he pulls the boy's mouth open, and hisses as he spies the inflamed gums with the smallest hint of teeth in the back.

"Oh starshine," he murmurs, and doesn't think twice. He washes his hands, calls on the very weakest strain of ice magic he can, and sticks his fingers in Aurelio's mouth. His son is hurting, and he's not about to let him suffer when he can help it.

Gladio and Cor and Luna all get him toys to help with the teething, but it doesn't take a Seer to see that Aurelio prefers his father's fingers. And despite the warnings he gets, Aurelio doesn't seem to want to use his fingers as grindstones, instead only gently rotating little teeth and tongue over them, occasionally whining for the cold to be turned up, but usually only demanding comfort and attention. Both are things Noctis readily gives.

"He's definitely going to be a Daddy's Boy growing up," Gladio teases him one evening, watching him rock his son to sleep, fingers still in mouth. Aurelio has a hard time sleeping while his gums are so sore, so he usually winds up in Noctis' arms before the night is over. "If he comes out as a spoiled brat in his teens, I don't want to hear any complaining."

"In that case, I'll send you in to knock him down a few pegs. Or your son, whenever you get around to making him."

Gladio snorts. "Yeah, sure. But I reserve the right to bitch about it."

"Deal."

He knows he should probably stop encouraging the maids to bring him his son for every little need, but he can't bring himself to care about muttering Senators or displeased people when he's got Aurelio tired and grumpy in his arms, struggling to fall asleep. Cor gives him one of those looks he interprets as  _you're being a sentimental fool but I'm going to allow you to have it because you look so happy._

Senator Grace is incredibly lucky Noctis has sworn off showing violence around his son, because otherwise he'd be on the fighting floor going up against his King. There is no one more important to him than his son - no Treaty is going to take precedence over Aurelio's well-being.

"Yep," Prompto says when they see the guests out. "Definitely a Daddy's Boy."

That's perfectly fine, as far as Noctis is concerned.

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

The day Aurelio comes charging into the throne room in nothing but his sleeping shirt and a nappy, Noctis very nearly passes out from shock. 

His son is  _walking._

It feels like he's lost his own ability to walk as he stumbles down the stairs, landing hard on his knees before his boy as Aurelio regards him with something like smugness. As if he's saying  _see, I can walk too,_ and Noctis has never had so many emotions running through him at once. He's so proud he wants to pick his son up and crow, but on the other hand he's so absolutely terrified right now he kind of wants to curl around his boy and not let him leave his arms for a few hours.

He settles on the safe stalemate of letting Aurelio sit in his lap while he deals with paperwork, and passes him off to Luna when she wants her turn. Cor and Gladio are both proud in their own ways, but not nearly as much as he is. 

Gods, his son is already walking. He kind of feels like someone hit him between the eyes with a Thunder spell, but he can't bring himself to really pay attention. 

He does feel bad about worrying the maids, though. They'd come walking in later looking like they were walking to their execution, only to find Aurelio sitting in his lap, happily chucking balled-up reports around the room and giggling. 

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

Growing up, Aurelio is the apple of his father's eye, and evidently knows it. He is adored by everyone for his charm and aloof kindness; it takes no time for people to see past the airs he puts on and the dramatics he performs to see the warmth beneath. He strolls through the city on the regular, helping those who need it however he can. He becomes the nightmare of the Kingsglaive and Crownsguard at seven, when he learns how to disappear and reappear all over the place. 

Noctis... may or may not have woven a  _teensy tiny thread_ of family magic around him to let him know when Aurelio was in danger. Call him paranoid, but he knows Aurelio wants to stretch his wings, and he's fine with letting that happen, so long as his son can do it in safe ways.

He takes to learning to fight with all the put-upon grace he can, but as soon as his feet touch training ground stone he's aware and alert and ready to brawl. He gives Prompto a black eye the first time they spar, bloodies Gladio's nose, and manages to trip the Marshall. There's a swagger in his step when he takes off for the night, but his self-pride never turns to arrogance like Gladio feared it would. Aurelio is serious where it concerns serious matters, goofy or flamboyant where it doesn't, or where he can get away with it, and charms people in one way or another.

"I'm going to have to beat girls off you with a bat when you get older, you realize," Noctis teases him.

Aurelio's nose wrinkles. 

"Or boys," Noctis adds. "People in general, really."

"I thought you were already doing that," Aurelio says. He's not exactly lying; Noctis  _is_ keeping a greater portion of Insomnia's tabloids and gossip mongers off his back. 

"Yeah, but it'll be a thousand times worse."

"Ew."

The only real thing the gossipers can say about Aurelio though is that he has a... unique taste in fashion. He reminds Noctis of another walking fashion disaster on that front, because the day of his tenth birthday he finds a clothing store that sells some rather... interesting hats and cloaks and procures himself half the shop. When he swans in to breakfast the next morning wearing a garish clash of deep violet and bright orange, Noctis can only hold down his remarks and tell himself  _he's exploring his world. Let him be a kid._

And then the day comes when Niflheim tries it's luck again, and Noctis discovers the truth of just  _why_ Aurelio reminds him of Ardyn so much.

At first, his attention is held by the soldiers, and the daemons. They're doing fine, but then there's a tugging sensation, followed by the knowledge that someone is digging into the Armiger, and when he looks back in the direction of the pull, he finds Aurelio grasping a crimson blade, another one sticking out of a soldier mere feet away.

And as Noctis watches, half of his Armiger - the spoils of war from Ardyn's fight - fall back around him, and fade from dark blue to crimson. 

Aurelio meets his gaze, and Noctis  _knows._

He knows those eyes. That look. Ardyn bows to him, a slow, humble acknowledgement from one ruler to the next -  _I am here, I see you, O King of Kings_ \- and he knows Luna is beside him, stiff with shock. 

**_"So... that... is how you would end it..."_ **

**_"What... will you do now? Erase me from history once more?"_ **

Aurelio Lucis Caelum, first of his name, is Ardyn Lucis Caelum reborn.

He knows he has to do something about this, but the tide of battle calls again, and he forces himself to focus on getting everyone safe before dealing with Ardyn. By the time the last daemon falls, he knows precisely what his actions will be.

Ardyn's swords fade from existence. His back is turned, his spine rigid, shoulders hunched. As Noctis approached, he tenses, but doesn't turn. He's not going to fight back, Noctis thinks, and there's a horror to that - that here and now of all places, Ardyn would simply give up. Let Noctis kill him if he so chose. 

But he doesn't choose that. He turns Ardyn around and embraces him, fear and horror and something left cold and broken by Ardyn's death mingling in his chest. He presses his face to Ardyn's hair, inhales a scent that has never left him since his birth so many years ago. 

This is his son. His blood, his flesh, his heart. 

"If you're going to kill me, then please don't yank me around. Just do it." Ardyn says, and his voice sounds so  _small._ He's trying to keep the quiver out of it, but it's still there. A false bravado not quite covered. Noctis holds him tighter.

"I'm not going to kill you," he says. He pulls back, brushes a stray stand of hair out of Ardyn's face. There's no hatred, no festering wounds here now. Ardyn is not some dark shadow left to terrify Noctis and haunt his every dream. That darkness is gone, faded with time and the light of new life. "How much do you remember?" he asks gently. 

"All of it," Ardyn says, tilting his chin up. A brave man awaiting his execution. "I've known since I was born."

Noctis almost wants to laugh as he remember the early days where people would tell him his son was a grumpy old man in baby form. It's too somber a moment for that, though, because Ardyn is still looking at him like he's expecting a sword through the stomach at any moment.

"I love you," Noctis tells him, and Ardyn bodily flinches, as though struck. 

"I hurt you," he argues. Trying to goad Noctis into a reaction other than love. Trying to hide from a forgiveness long in motion. He frightens so easily at all the wrong things, his boy. 

"You did. Back then. But this isn't back then, Ardyn. As far as I'm concerned, the slate's wiped clean. Fresh start. You want to be someone different this time? Go right ahead. But I'm not going to kill you for something you did way back when."

It's been over ten years. No Caelum has ever held a grudge so long, save Ardyn himself, and Noctis isn't about to emulate him. 

And blessed, brave Luna comes to stand beside him. "Nor will I," she admits, and her gaze is bright, unyielding. She takes his other shoulder in hand, stares into him as if to see his soul.  "There's nothing to be gained from holding on to hatred. I never hated you to begin with."

Ardyn still looks so confused. So unwilling to believe it. "It can't be so easy," he argues in a whisper, and tries to escape their hands. Neither of them relent. Parenting is a team, and Ardyn is their son. They will hold fast to him even if the world burns away. 

"You- you have to... to hate me. To want to destroy me. To do  _something._ " He's pleading now, looking between them, trying to find a weakness. He'll find none.

"Okay then," Noctis says calmly. "You're grounded for three weeks for interfering in a battle. No sweets, and any trips outside you take have to be with a guard."

Luna nods. "That's reasonable then." She leans down and kisses Ardyn's forehead. Noctis feels the truth magic take, and Ardyn doesn't fight it. "Do you hate us?"

Ardyn's eyes glow with unshed tears, and his lips twist upward in a half-disbelieving smile. "No," he chokes out, sounding near tears. "I love you so much I would burn the world to see you safe."

Ahh, now there's a feeling they can all get behind. Noctis cups his face, kisses his forehead. "We're on the same page."

He hasn't forgotten Ignis and the others behind him. Now they make themselves known. "So I take it we're  _not_ offing the Lucian heir?" Ignis drawls. He's kept a dagger in hand, but they've all been following Noctis and Luna's lead, letting them deal with this. Because Ardyn is Ardyn, but he's also Aurelio, and where Aurelio is concerned, Noctis and Luna make the calls.

Ardyn flinches, and almost looks ready to drawn on weapons. Noctis stands, his decision made.

"No, and anyone who tries to kill my son will answer to  _me."_

It's a claim, and a promise all rolled into one. He meets their gazes, their unsaid questions - _are you sure? can he be trusted? is he loyal as he claims?_ \- and presses back against their silence with his own. 

His brothers look at Ardyn, small and not nearly as helpless as he seems, and weigh him on the invisible scale.

They don't find him lacking for truth or for bravery, and it takes little more than that for them to accept who and what Ardyn is, brush the past aside, and slot him back into the spot of  _Prince Aurelio, heart of Luna and Noctis, needs protecting._

Cor takes a little longer, only because it's Cor, and he's seen the havoc first hand. But later, when they're around the fire and most of the party is asleep, he approaches where Noctis is sitting and kneels. "I'll trust you on this matter, highness."

Noctis nods. "Thank you, Cor."

In the morning, it's like nothing ever happened. They treat Ardyn a little rougher, a little more like a soldier than a baby Prince in the making, but he is still treated kindly, still called  _Prince_ and  _starshine_ and  _beloved._ He flinches with every kind word, almost seems not to know what to do with such kindness.

He fears it, Noctis thinks. And that's probably why he hated Noctis as much as he did. Because Noctis was everything he had once been, but could be no longer. And now that kindness is pressed against him again like a knife, and he can go nowhere to escape it. 

They clamber into the Regalia Mark II again, and within the hour, everyone's talking or laughing about their own things. Nobody pays any attention when Ardyn scoots a little closer to his father, and leans beneath his arm.

"What do you want us to call you?" Noctis murmurs so only Ardyn will hear. 

Ardyn says nothing for a time, his gaze fixed firmly on the left hand window, watching scenery roll by. 

"Ar is fine," he says at last. "Given it's the only two parts of the names that fit."

Noctis hums. "Get ready for all the pirate puns you could ever want."

Ardyn's lip curls. "I  don't want to hear it from a king named  _Night Light_ who called his son  _Golden."_

Noctis just snorts. "Yeah, alright. Fair enough."


	3. Chapter 3

**3\. Gladio**

 

There's an icy silence hanging over the meeting room today. Gladio knows this silence, knows how to bear it's weight across his shoulders as he moves among the servants, carefully positioning himself a little to the right of Noctis. Ignis is already on the left, head turned towards Aurelio, as if he's listening for something. 

The silence is not between enemies, but between father and son. A point of contention, as it were, once again brought up to be fought over. The long and short of it is that Noctis wants to pull a page from his father's book and send Aurelio to public school. Perhaps to humble him, perhaps to keep him in touch with his people, Gladio has no idea. But Aurelio doesn't care for the idea.

It's been a week of back-and-forth sniping at each other, careful engagements with body language and eye contact. Of words made to cut to the quick like swords being leveled at each other. Aurelio loves and respects his parents, but he is also his own person, formed from two thousand years worth of emotional upheaval, a kind death, and a harsh rebirth. 

Gladio can admit, he's turned out a hell of a lot better than most people would.

But that just makes these types of arguments all the more brutal. 

"Are you so determined to ostracize yourself that you would spurn those who need you later in life?" Noctis asks, which Gladio knows is his way of saying  _your head is getting swollen._ "Are you above the common people, then? Above what is required of you?"

Aurelio flicks a pretend bit of lint off his jacket. "I am above sycophancy. I am above arrogance, and I am above greed. If all those things are what you require of me, then yes, father, I  _am_ above the common people."

Gladio holds back a wince as Noctis' face darkens. 

"You speak as if you know them. As if you have already met, weighed and found them  _wanting._ What have you seen that has turned your heart so cold to them?"

"And what have  _you_ seen that has made you so soft towards their rabble, father?" Aurelio asks, and his golden gaze locks with Noctis' blue. "Is it when they stalk us with cameras, when they invade our privacy? When they demand our help on things that they should be able to do themselves? When they speak of us as if we rob them, when we are the only protectors they have? Tell me  _precisely_ what I should find so  _humbling_ about being in their presence."

He's snarling by the end of it, venom capped on each word. 

Gladio almost feels pity for Aurelio. But he can't deny, even back before all this, when they were masquerading as Hunters, and even before then, a lot of what Aurelio is pointing out was true. Hell, Gladio got his first scar defending Noctis from a drunken asshole in a back alley meeting gone wrong. 

And yeah, he could say part of the royal obligation is getting used to having no privacy, to being stalked and filmed and listening to people talk shit. But that would be copping out, avoiding the more serious issue. Aurelio finds no worth to their people - no reason to defend them, to hold them close like Noctis does. Because Noctis has seen the good and the bad in people, and he has chosen to hold the weight of the good over the weight of the bad. 

Aurelio however, has chosen the opposite. He hasn't seen or felt enough of the first to overcome the latter. And that could be dangerous.

Noctis seems to realize that too. He drags in a deep breath, and releases it in a deeper sigh. Folds his hands in his lap, and fixes Aurelio with a look that is equal parts patience and understanding. A look Gladio remembers watching Regis fix Noctis with, once upon a time.

"And what about people like us?"

Aurelio blinks, some of the savagery falling back in the wake of confusion. "What?"

"People like us. People who are in their own little corners of the world, people who don't speak out. People who try their best to make a bad situation good, who fight and crawl and thrive where they can. What about them? Would you ignore those who don't ask for help even when their bodies are cracking against the strain of holding themselves up? Would you ignore those who attempt to keep others above water even as they themselves are drowning? Because while there are plenty of those  _you_ mentioned, there are just as many as those I mention now. You'll find they often go hand-in-hand with each other, even. So tell me, would you ignore them all because you think them below you?"

Aurelio is silent. He looks less angry now, more pensive. 

Noctis sighs again, and rises to his feet. "I don't expect you to get along with everyone. And I won't lie and tell you the type you described won't be there. I dealt with enough of them during my time at school. But for every leech or green-eyed monster you find, you'll often find just as many people who are happy you're there, because it offers them a chance to breathe. Because your very presence shifts the tides of the world around you, and it gives them a brief chance to strengthen themselves. Think on it, Aurelio."

Gladio follows Noctis out into the hallway, quietly closing the door behind him. Aurelio still hasn't moved from his spot, his shoulders not quite as tightly drawn as they were in the beginning. Perhaps there's hope yet for the young Prince.

"You know," Gladio says as they walk. "This would probably be a lot easier if he were being genuinely arrogant about all this, not practical."

Noctis hums. "Yeah, it would. But that would come with its own set of complications. Namely you bitching at me for letting him grow up so arrogant."

"Best you can do is hope for the best, highness," Ignis says, and Gladio's inclined to agree with that.

Aurelio might be his father's son, but he's still his own person. And like everyone else in the world, he's gotta figure out how he wants his life to go.

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

It's late in the evening when Aurelio comes to the training room. Gladio's going through his nightly training drills, to help soothe any leftover violence that wants to emerge after a long day of meetings and talks and dealing with politicians. Everyone has their own way of calming down after such things - Prompto and Noctis drown themselves in the hot tub or play video games and eat junk food, Ignis stress bakes (or cooks, sometimes) and Gladiolus falls back into the old training routines his father put into his head.

Faintly, he hears the door open. He elects to ignore it until he's finished the set, but when he finally turns, he's surprised to find Aurelio sitting on one of the benches by the door, watching him quietly.

"I know this is going to sound strange," Aurelio says at last. "But I need you to help me work through a problem without actually saying anything."

Gladio snorts. "That's hardly the strangest request I've had. You want to know something? Your old man does the same thing, now and again. You want to spar, and talk, but you want to solve this shit on your own. That right?"

Aurelio looks a little amazed, and then just flat out amused. "I should have known," he says, rising to his feet, and calling for his scythe. "Even after all this time, he's still the same Noctis."

Gladio takes a few steps back, and then without warning, calls his shield and flings it at Aurelio's face. Aurelio neatly rolls to the side, back onto his feet, and then lunges.

"The problem is not with my arrogance. I know I'm an asshole sometimes - well no, okay, I can be an asshole all the time if I wanted to, truth be told. But the problem isn't with  _me_ this time, it's with other people."

He slams the butt of his scythe towards Gladio's face, the man shifting to the side and parrying with his own Greatsword. 

"I can't stand them. Two thousand years of people bowing and scraping and  _whining,_ 'oh great healer won't you save us', 'can't you help me with my children great healer they're acting out' 'why won't you solve my garden problem great healer' 'great healer my toilet is backing up surely you can fix it'. I get it, I  _know_ as Prince it's my job to take on those responsibilities, but outside the palace I look at their faces and all I see is  _those people._ "

Gladio grunts as a sweep of the scythe knocks him off his feet. He rolls back, dodges a blow, and lunges. Aurelio curses as he's knocked off his own feet. He clambers back up and they circle each other. 

"And I know he's right. I know what he says is true, because even when I was a healer, I saw those people. I saw the sick and the quiet, those who didn't place enough value on themselves. Who thought fading quietly into the night was a disturbance on others. Those who struggled and fought valiantly, who clawed for a simple, meager existence but weren't granted even that. So I know he speaks the truth. And I know if I go, I'll probably find those people, because these are  _children._ Hormonal, teenaged children who don't know their asses from holes in the ground."

 _Pot, meet kettle,_ Gladio thinks, and swings his sword again. Aurelio dances away from the blows, the furrow in his brow growing sharper the longer they go on. His next words are softer, but Gladio still hears them.

"And truth be told... I can't bear to disappoint him. As it is, I already hate arguing with him. It hurts, more than I ever thought possible. Disappointing him  _or_ Luna feels like my heart's being ripped open and pulverized. I don't  _want_ to either hurt or disappoint them. But I can't just blindly put myself out there again, only to be told that I'm the problem everyone wants gone just because I've got Lucian blood and I'm royalty. Because I'm not capable of fixing all their woes, or I refuse to. Because I want to be my own person instead of letting them into my head and my heart and letting them have all of me."

Proof he's got a good head on his shoulders. He's recognizing both sides of the problem, recognizing his own emotional stake in it.  _Good kid,_ Gladio thinks, and knocks him on his ass again.

"After all, I might not get lucky enough to meet my own Prompto. Or Luna, or Gladio or Ignis. None of those things might come to me. I might go through all of this with nothing to keep me going but the knowledge that I'd be disappointing Noctis if I stopped."

 _Noctis would sooner throw himself on his own sword than continue to let you go somewhere that makes you miserable._ Even after several months, the kid just doesn't seem to grasp how loved he is. What Noctis would sacrifice to keep him alive. It's probably the thousand of years of jaded bitterness that he's only just let go of, but Gladio knows with enough time Noctis can thaw just about anyone's heart. It's just a matter of time before it sticks that he's loved, he's cherished, and nothing he says about it is going to stop that.

"But I also might find all that and more. I just... the  _thought_ of those leeches..."

He trails off. They keep sparring, but there's no more speech. It takes Ignis knocking on the doorframe to make them both pause.

"It's after midnight, gentlemen. Aurelio, you've a meeting with your father in the morning. I suggest heading to bed."

Probably just as well. Gladio's beginning to feel tired himself. But hopefully this has helped Aurelio figure out what he needs. What he has to do. 

"That's... a good idea. Thank you, Ignis. I'll go." He looks back at Gladio. "Thank you for indulging me. Sorry for keeping you up past regular hours."

"Don't worry about it," Gladio says, and means it. "And I know you said you want to figure this out on your own, but I want you to think on something. If you think for a second Noct would ever  _force you_ to stay someplace you're not happy? You're on the wrong track there, kid. He loves you, and if this school thing doesn't work out later down the line, all you gotta do is say so. You've got an out, so don't go thinking this is a permanent thing." He claps Aurelio on the back. "Now, bed!"

Ignis watches him go, and turns back to Gladio once he's gone. "I take it he was problem-solving as Noct likes to do?"

"One thing they got in common." He loops an arm around Ignis' shoulders, draws him in and kisses his temple. "Kid's got a pretty straight head, for all he's gone through."

Ignis hums. Neither have forgotten just what lurks beneath Aurelio's eyes - the man that was before. But after nearly fifteen years with the kid, they haven't forgotten all the things  _Aurelio_ has done either.  And the only time 'Ardyn' really comes out anymore is if someone's threatening Noctis or Luna. Gladio's had to back the kid up all of once in his life to stop a massacre, and Noctis was the star of the hour in that one, too. 

"I suppose we'll see how this all turns out on the morrow. For now though, a cup of tea and a soft bed would not go amiss."

"Amen to that, Iggy."

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

In the morning, the meeting room feels lighter. Less cold, more familiar. Gladio stands with Noctis, and waits.  

Aurelio approaches with no hesitancy, though there's still a bit of weight to his walk, like he's rolling the thought around in his head still. "I suppose," he says at last. "It might behoove me to at least attempt this farce."

Noctis raises an eyebrow, but he's smiling. "It might," he agrees. 

Aurelio glances at him, and  _there's_ the hesitancy Gladio expected. "A certain little bird said something to me last night that I thought I would touch base with you on. Should this entire venture go belly-up, and I'm miserable beyond creation... would I still be expected to remain because of duty?"

Noctis' expression goes sharp so fast it's almost funny. "Absolutely  _not."_

"And... it wouldn't cause any issue? No scandals, no future problems?"

Ignis rolls his eyes, and Noctis leans forward.

"Aurelio," he says softly, and here now is the  _father_ speaking, not so much a King. "Trust me when I say I don't give a damn if you withdraw from a school that makes you unhappy and they make a  _fuss_ about it. People will say what they will say, but I don't want you dwelling on it. I only ask that you go into this with an open mind and heart, and  _try_ it before you dismiss the whole idea."

"That's all?"

"That's all."

Aurelio worries his lip for a couple of beats, and then nods. "Fine then. Tomorrow?"

"I'll have Ignis start registration, yes. But it will most likely be a short while. A week, at least."

"Perhaps two," Ignis says. "Given the children are off on break right now."

Noctis hums. "Well then. Plenty of time to figure out how to present yourself. Don't go into this thinking like you're on a mission. Go at it however you want."

They move on to other things after that, but Gladio doesn't resist the urge to ruffle Aurelio's hair on his way out. Aurelio swats at him, but it's not as irritated as it usually is, and the half-smile he shoots Gladio as he's headed out the door is nice.

Oh yeah. The kid's gonna be just fine, as far as Gladio's concerned.


	4. Chapter 4

**4\. Ignis**

 

Having grown up with HRH Noctis "Sulk if they don't give you an hour to go fishing" Lucis Caelum, Ignis expects for Aurelio to mimic his father at least in some capacity. Of course, that's before the realization on the road to Galdin Quay, where Ignis can feel every last trickle of lasting hatred he has for the man that cost them so much weigh itself against Noctis' firm stare, and wither away in a moment. It shouldn't be so easy to just... put all his hatred aside. To forget and let the past stay where it belongs. There should be leftover emotions, a refusal to put up with Aurelio's stunts, a refusal to even  _deal_ with the boy.

But instead there is just the razor-sharp will of Noctis, pressed against his heart, and the soft benedictions of Lunafreya, and the same unwavering loyalty to the young boy that there was to another in his place, long ago.

"What's our ETA?" Ignis demands as he checks his weapons, and calls a few more from Noctis' Armiger just to be safe. In the driver's seat, Cor's scowling at the front of the road like it's personally offending him, while Monica softly murmurs words into a phone.

"Less than ten minutes, tops," Dustin says, his own lips pressed thin. "According to all sources, Aurelio continues to keep the doors barred and the windows shuttered. The shooters have been unsuccessful in breaking whatever barricades he's put up."

His first week at school, and Aurelio is already making a name for himself. It's unsurprising that given the amount of death threats Noctis suffered as a young man, Aurelio wouldn't be  much different. What is also not a surprise is that Aurelio's first instinct was to gather up the kids in the line of fire and huddle them up in a deserted classroom, barring doors and windows and locking the whole place down with a magical barrier. The rest of the school has been successfully evacuated, given the attackers are only there for Aurelio.

Ignis is proud; his charge has kept a level head, assessed the situation, secured protection for himself and others, and is now waiting for backup. Were only Noctis so calm and levelheaded as a young man, perhaps their adventures would have gone differently. But he wouldn't change it, not after all this time. Whatever they faced, they were made stronger for it. He has little doubt Aurelio will be the same.

"Five minutes," Cor snaps, and makes a sharp left turn as the lights ahead go green. He doesn't bother waiting for the rest of traffic to move, deftly dodging through the honking vehicles before speeding off down the road. The police have already been informed of the situation, and are willing to make an exception as the Crownsguard get into position.

Ignis' ears catch something as they turn, and he raises his voice. "Turn that up! Quickly!"

Monica doesn't ask, just turns the volume on the radio up to where they can all hear it as the car falls silent.

"-- _statement coming in from the leader of the armed men currently holding position around the gates of the school. 32 year old Soteris Vitoricus demands the immediate surrender of Crown Prince Aurelio Lucis Caelum, at which point his men will peacefully vacate the school. They seek to send a message to the Elite of the Crown, citing His Royal Majesty's negligence to the people of Tenebrae during the Darkness almost a year ago, stating 'his cowardice caused us to lose our homes, our safety, and our families. If he is truly about his people, isn't is only right that he should be willing to lose these things as well?'"_

 _"_ Oh go right to hell," Ignis snarls, his temper flaring briefly. "What does such a man know of loss?!"

"Calm!" Cor orders from the front. "He'll get his in due time. We've dealt with nutcases like him before. Right now, worry about Aurelio, and leave the rest to us."

Ignis grits his teeth, wishing for once he had his eyes back, if only so he could march into that school and stare into the soul of the man who chases after the 'eye for an eye' mentality with such bitterness. 

"The name sounds familiar," Dustin mutters. "Vitoricus... wasn't that the man who caused the bomb threat against Regis' company about thirty years ago? Shortly after--"

"Noctis was born," Monica finishes, looking over at Cor. "Sir, if its the same man--"

Cor presses harder on the gas, and Ignis clings to his seat. 

"What's going on?" he asks, as they swerve, and then charge onwards. "Marshall?"

"We need to get to that school,  _now._ Victoricus was one of our biggest thorns during Regis' reign, always seeming to know where to strike to get his results. A lot of people died because of him - and a lot more became our enemies over it."

"You think it could be his son?" Ignis asks. "A family of crazed men out for revenge?"

"Could be. Or it could be the same man under a different face, name and age."

 _Shit._ "He wouldn't have happened to have been one of those terrorist groups with ways to blast past our magical arms, would he?"

Cor's silence says it all. They skid into the parking lot moments later, Ignis all but flying out of the seat in his haste.

Monica's gasp is what tells him something has gone wrong. And then the smell his his nose, and he takes a step back.

Blood. And a lot of it. Too much to be natural.

"Six," Dustin swears. 

"Would someone like to tell me what's--"

"They're dead," Cor says, and he sounds... awed. Quietly, but thoroughly awed. "All of them."

"The  _children?!"_

"No," Monica says. "Victoricus."

"The old kings," Cor says, "Used to have this... ritual. Obviously it isn't practiced anymore, but they used to cut the body parts of their most hated enemies apart, and put them on the ends of sharpened sticks to be paraded around the battlefield as a show of superior threat towards the opposition."

Ignis can feel bile threatening to rise. Not the worst he's heard, but he can imagine it in his head, and it isn't pretty. "...and they've been...?"

"Yeah. Every last one of them. Monica, Dustin, proceed cautiously, but check to make sure the kids are okay. I'm going to get in touch with Nyx -- if this is his doing, it's in incredibly bad taste. Scientia, you--"

"I will find Aurelio." And he will - not that it will be hard. Cor seems to overlook the second nature hiding beneath Aurelio's skin, but not him. No, he knows this handiwork was from  _Ardyn,_ sent as a warning against all those who would try to harm him or others.

He walks cautiously through the school, using his senses to guide him. He can hear the soft murmur of voices, little more than a whisper behind doors. He presses hands to one door, and gently knocks. The voices immediately stop.

"Children?" he calls. "It's alright now, it's safe."

"You're lying," someone calls back. "Go away! We won't let you take Aurelio!"

"Is Aurelio there? He can verify my identity, if it pleases you. I'm the Hand of his Royal Highness Noctis Lucis Caelum. I promise, I come in peace."

"The  _King?"_

"He's lying. Why would the King come here?"

"Duh, 'cause his kid's in danger?"

"Aurelio isn't really--"

"Shh!"

Ignis patiently waits for the kids to sort themselves out, and then asks again, "I don't suppose you could ask Aurelio whether it's real or not? We have people out here waiting to escort you all home, you see--"

"He's real." The voice comes from  _behind_ Ignis, scratchy and rough, like Aurelio's been yelling a lot. He also reeks of blood, and sways when Ignis reaches for him. "Open the door, and head for the main entrance, all of you. The Crownsguard there are waiting to take you to safety."

Up close, Ignis can feel the tacky sensation of dried and drying blood, hear the harsh breaths Aurelio's tugging into his chest, like a fight he's still got going. Ignis pulls his jacket off and uses it to shield the worst of the wounds from the children as the door behind him opens up.

"Thank you," several of the children say as they leave. Always soft, like they're afraid of scaring him off with gratitude. Aurelio nods, clinging to Ignis as he struggles to stay upright. Ignis runs scans over him with magic, and with every wave that comes back, feels his temper grow that much hotter.

Only when the last child has left does Aurelio sag fully against him, breathing harsh, sweat covering his body. Ignis doesn't wait a moment more, and picks him up, hustling him back to the car to get him medical attention.

 

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0** _

 

Ignis stays by Aurelio's bed after it's all over, after Noctis and Luna have come and gone and even Gladio's come through under the guise of checking in to hear the situation. Several broken bones, including a broken collar bone, a gash on his lower thigh requiring twelve stitches, and severe dehydration and magical stasis. Aurelio did not merely push himself to punish those men for their arrogance, he ran himself straight into the bedrock of the earth.

Now he lies unconscious in a medical bed, hooked up to fluids with the steady beep of the monitor a reassuring background noise for Ignis. On the TV overhead, the news report tells of the bodies of the men, and the kids and parents are coming forward, the children to tell of how reliable and protective Aurelio was, and the parents to gush about their gratitude towards Noctis and his child. It's clear that despite the terrorists and threats that crop up, Insomnia still stands in support of it's King and Queen. And he has little doubt when the time comes, they'll stand with their Prince too. 

For now however, he listens to the beep of the monitor, the drone of the analysts discuss who was responsible for the savage deaths of Victoricus and his men, and finds himself feeling nothing but satisfied.


	5. Chapter 5

**5\. Prompto**

 

The thing people don’t seem to be able to remember about the royals of Insomnia; you can dress like a civvie and still be a threat. 

 

After nearly thirty years standing alongside Noct and the others, Prompto’s perfected the art. Of course, he also grew up as a civilian, so it’s possible that’s why so many people are so quick to dismiss him as a logical threat, even when he’s got guns strapped visibly to every part of his body. And he gets it, sometimes people are cocky enough to assume that just because their target isn’t carrying some kind of weapon, they’re safe and free to do whatever the hell they want.

 

That’s where mistakes get made, and assassination attempts can get a little crazy. Like today, for example.

 

_ “Take Aurelio out and get him suited for tonight, would you Prompto?” Noctis  looks up from where he’s pouring over a list of reminders for tonight’s events, steadily checking off boxes as Citadel staff come to inform him of what has or has not been done. “He’s currently rebelling against all of our pre-made options, and neither Luna or myself have time or we’d take him. Let him pick out whatever he wants, so long as it’s a suit with a tie that matches.” _

 

_ “Got it!” _

 

And that had been that. Simple, a nice easy day to take their young Prince out for a suiting, and come back home. 

 

Right up until the revolutionaries looking for their next big kill had shut down the mall and started mowing people down. 

 

Even after so many years of relative peace, Prompto hasn’t learned to let go of that hair-trigger reaction to danger. So when he sees the reflection of a gun coming out of a man’s pocket in a dressing room mirror, he grabs Aurelio and shoves him to the ground, throwing himself over the young Prince just as the screaming starts. He’s dressed in baggy clothes today, to hide himself behind the veneer of harmless civilian as he helps their Prince dress. He throws his hood up over his head, pulls his arms into the hoodie and flares the jacket out to cover himself and Aurelio just as one of the shooters starts making rounds. 

 

Aurelio’s eyes are wide in the darkness, face pinched and pale despite the absolute rage in his expression. Prompto very carefully mimics silence, listening as the footsteps walk right past them without ever stopping. It doesn’t mean anything - the guy could think he’s just a mannequin on the floor, or he could be checking out everywhere else first. Prompto strains his ears and listens, until the footsteps leave, and then he peeks out from beneath his hoodie, and starts dragging Aurelio out.

 

There are bodies, of course, and blood. Aurelio’s hand curves along Prompto’s bicep, the strength in his grip all the more telling of his distress. They keep low, moving carefully behind displays and using the shopping carts and clothes racks for cover. Prompto can see at least three moving around the area they’re in, and there’s no telling how many more are out there.

 

The idea situation would be to escape to an area with wifi so he can alert the Crownsguard to their location, and then find a spot to hold out until backup arrives. Prompto doesn’t mind going full one-man-army by himself, but with Aurelio here it’s too much of a risk. One stray bullet and no Phoenix Downs means his Prince is a liability rather than a help right now, even strong as he is. Besides, Noctis would kill him, and that’s before getting to what the  _ others  _ would do. 

 

He’s not so reckless to risk the wrath of his King anymore. So when one of the men starts to drift a little too close, Prompto nudges Aurelio into hiding, and ducks into a spot himself.

 

“Hey, look what I found!”

 

_ Oh fuck me,  _ Prompto thinks as another man in a red hoodie enters, dragging a crying woman by her hair. He looks over just in time to see Aurelio’s face emerge, fury burned into his gaze. He makes a sharp movement with his hand, glancing over at the two distracted men, and shakes his head. Aurelio looks at him as if saying  _ she’s in danger, what am I supposed to do, just sit here? _

 

Prompto does his best to convey  _ I’ll help her if I can, just stay put, alright? _

 

What he doesn’t say, but he knows Aurelio already knows is that his life takes precedence over all else. It’s a hard, cold fact, the same kind that Noctis had to deal with when he was young. He never understood why he was forced to sit back during assassination attempts and be saved while others died in his stead. Aurelio clearly takes after Noctis in that regard. Nonetheless, in a battle between the people of Insomnia and the Prince, the Prince will always come first. 

 

A distraction is all he needs here, so Prompto grabs a couple of trinkets off the shelf and tosses one in either direction, making sure to hit something loud enough to attract attention. He and Aurelio duck back into cover as the woman gets thrown aside, and the disturbances checked out. Then Prompto grabs his Prince and makes a dash for the exit.

 

They’re out in the open when they’re forced to hide again, and it sets off every alarm Prompto has both as a sniper and a fighter, being out in the middle of the courts without any kind of protection. The bodies are more numerous out here, and Aurelio’s despair is plain on his face, but the wifi is back on which means Prompto can get a signal out.

 

He types out a quick ‘ _ need backup at mall, shit’s going down, extracting Prince from site’  _ and types in their coordinates. Only once the message has gone through does he turn back to the task at hand, only to find Aurelio’s decided to be a hero, and started boldly sneaking up towards one of the attackers. 

 

Prompto wants to scream. Wants to throttle his charge. Suddenly he understands how Gladio and Ignis felt all those years ago, and resolves to buy them both a bottle of wine when this is over. He does none of those things, and instead reaches into his Armiger for the weapons, clapping silencers over all of them, and then takes aim with the handgun. 

 

Before Aurelio can so much as open his mouth, four of them are down. Prompto’s moving by the time he whirls around, and he grabs his Prince without much fanfare, hauling him back into the depths of hiding.

 

“Don’t do that again,” he says as calmly as he can, but he imagines he probably looks a little like Gladio on a bad day if the little swallowing motion Aurelio makes is any indication. “We’re trying to get out of here without causing further issue. I can’t keep you safe and keep them off your back at the same time.”

 

“But--!”

 

“Aurelio. You don’t want to upset your dad by coming home in a body bag. And you don’t want to do that, and have to be Phoenix Down’d and  _ then  _ have to deal with him after I’ve explained you bodily rushed out despite my best efforts.”

 

“...You’d tell him that?”

 

“I’d tell him the truth. He’s my best friend. I’ve never lied to him.” He looks Aurelio in the eye, makes sure to impress this. “I love you, but I’ve loved him far longer.”

 

The fight goes out of Aurelio like it was never there at all. “...I don’t like them dying for me.”

 

“I know kiddo, trust me. I had to help Noct out of a few scares when we were younger. It’s not pretty, but it’s part of being who you are. Mourn the people lost, but keep walking forward. Those left living still need you.”

 

The rest of the escape is unhurried, quiet, and by the time Prompto slips them out a side door, there have been several more shootings, more screams, and what Prompto is pretty sure a half-barked demand to ‘find him’. 

 

_ Three guesses as to who ‘him’ is and the first two don’t count,  _ Prompto thinks to himself as he bodily picks Aurelio up and dashes for the treeline. Crownsguard are waiting there, Cor grim-faced and furious.

 

“Any injuries?” Monica asks as Prompto sets Aurelio down.

 

“None on him, at least. Inside is a different story. No idea who they are, but they were there for Aurelio.”

 

“Positive?”

 

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

 

Monica nods, confident. “We’ll deal with it, then. Thank you Prompto. Go ahead and take Aurelio home, we won’t be long.”

 

There’s a nondescript car parked across the street, the windows tinted. They roll down to reveal Gladio and Ignis, both looking calm despite the worry behind their eyes. “There he is. Not a scratch on him either. Good job Prom.”

 

“I live to serve,” Prompto half-jokes, Ignis’ lips twitching up the little reminder. “Definitely gotten better at this compared to the first try.”

 

“I should certainly hope so,” Ignis drawls as he and Aurelio climb in. “Aurelio, are you alright?”

 

“Fine,” Aurelio answers, short and to the point. No warmth in his tone. “Let’s just go home.”

 

Prompto trades a knowing look with Gladio in the rearview mirror. While Aurelio has proven over the years to be vocal about certain issues that nettle him, when it comes to a lot of the harder aspects of day-to-day royalty, he often locks himself up behind self-made walls in much the same way Noctis did. Getting those walls to come down is a matter of patience and Aurelio’s willingness to speak. Normally it’s Noctis that finds a way through his son’s stubborn nature, disappearing for a few hours to follow whatever trail Aurelio leaves, and returning looking more steadfast in resolve, while Aurelio usually comes back with red-rimmed eyes and an exhausted slump to his shoulders.

 

Prompto knows the kinds of things that make up silent explosions like that. He and the others had plenty of them back in the day. And there are still days where Noctis locks up behind his own walls, but he’s old enough, wise enough now to trust that his friends will be there to talk whenever he’s ready. The walls come down after a period, and they help him back to his right headspace and keep moving. That’s all they can do.

 

Aurelio is so much younger, so much less experienced for all the remnants of their once-foe locked behind his eyes. Prompto remembers the feeling of youth like that, of uncertainty towards the future, especially when simple acts like going shopping somewhere seem to cause a ripple capable of ending lives. 

 

They let him have his silence on the ride back to the Citadel. Gladio sees Aurelio to his room, which lets Ignis pull him aside and show him the news clips airing across major stations - Crownsguard swarming the mall like ants swarming a hunting ground, dragging people out in cuffs. Within moments, it’s determined who the group belongs to - the son of the leader of the Free People’s Republic, an anti-government body who have been trying to kill the Lucian royals for years. Their hatred for Regis and his brood are particularly legendary. 

 

The name of the leader of the group? Soteris Vitoricus, who last Prompto remembered, was dead from Aurelio’s last prior run-in, his body pulled apart and used alongside the bodies of his fellows as a sort of warning.

 

Cor had been the one to pull him aside and quietly inform him of the discovery of certain evidence, and it hadn’t taken much to put two and two together. When the people he loves are threatened, Aurelio tends to rapidly slide backwards into ‘Ardyn’, and his violence when protecting said people is unparalleled. 

 

Even Noctis isn’t quite so scary, for all that he breathes fire and calls ice and lightning to rip his opponents down to size. It’s further proof that the violence within the Lucis Caelum line is long-lived, and carefully cultivated down generations of sons and daughters. 

 

Still, for all the violence of their lives, Aurelio’s still a kid. 

 

“You gonna tell him, or should I?” Prompto asks as they head back towards Noctis’ office to report.

 

“I believe it’s your turn, this round,” Ignis replies, and Prompto snorts. 

 

“Sure, why not.”

 

Noctis is worried; that much Prompto can tell immediately by the furrow of his brow and the set of his shoulders. But he does a damn good job of getting through the report with little more than a few sighs and a nod when it’s confirmed that yes, the FPR is likely active again and going to be gunning for Aurelio in the future.

 

“Set up a shifting guard,” Noctis says, rubbing at what is likely a tension headache. “I’ll go see if I can’t talk Aurelio around. Thank you both for your hard work. And thank you Prompto, for keeping him safe.”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

The next few hours are lost to work, work and more work, as the Crownsguard start pulling in the men responsible for the shooting to be questioned. There’s nothing like the particular violence of interrogation to get the blood pumping, and having been taught the tactics by Cor Leonis himself, Prompto’s nearly as proficient at getting answers as Leonis himself. 

 

In the end though, they barely learn anything new - Daemones Victoricus found his father’s will and testament that transferred all power in the “unlikely event” of his death to him, heard that the last time he and his men had been seen was when they went to deal with Aurelio, and put two and two together. So of course there was a vow of vengeance, a vow of “taking away from the Lucis Caelums what they took from me”, and every other tropey cliche in the book out there. Prompto could put this on social media, and nobody would believe it was real. Mainly because people this fixated on that kind of shit are only supposed to exist in fairytales.

 

“Well, the kid’s gotta learn to roll it with at some point,” Prompto laments as he and Leonis start packing up the prisoners for transfer. “It’s a shame though. He’s gonna have one hell of a learning curve.”

 

Of course when he says that, he doesn’t mean it out of meanness. Noctis had the same learning curve; they all did, really. That moment when it clicked that this was something that would follow them all the way through adulthood and into death. But he knows Aurelio will take it hard, the same way he’s taking his own value in the eyes of people around him. 

 

It’s probably poetic justice of some kind then, when Prompto returns back upstairs to find Noctis sitting outside his son’s room, looking a little… crispy.

 

“Uh,” Prompto starts, and Noctis blows a tuft of scorched hair out of his eyes. 

 

“He didn’t feel like talking.”

 

“Ah.” Prompto looks at the door, notes the slightest hint of frost around the rim. “Kid busted out a few spells, huh?”

 

“He’s remarkable at them,” Noctis says, pride coming into his tone despite the fact that he’s clearly the target in this scenario. “Fast and efficient. I’m pretty sure it was a Tricast he hit me with.”

 

Prompto snickers. “Didn’t bother sticking around to make sure? You coward.”

 

Noctis just smiles up at him, clearly proud of his ability to run away from his son’s attempts to casual murder. “Why don’t you try?”

 

“Eh?”

 

“Try talking to him. He seems to hold you in some regard.”

 

“He holds most of us in regard,” Prompto argues. Which isn’t a lie. Growing up, he was constantly following someone around, trying to learn their secrets like a sponge absorbing water. 

 

“Yes, but you’re the one he usually winds up with when guard duty is concerned. He might respond to you a little better than he did to me. Try?” Ah, and there are the puppy eyes Prompto grew up unable to say ‘no’ to. Prompto clicks his tongue, and nudges his traitorous king out of the way of the door with a boot.

 

“If I get zapped, I expect you to carry me to safety.”

 

“Nah, I’ll just roll you over and close the door. You’ll be fine.”

 

He raps on the door. “Aurelio, I’m coming in. You zap me and you’ll regret it.” He doesn’t actually mean it, but he needs a way to keep the kid from killing him as soon as he walks in.

 

The lights are off, the curtains drawn. Prompto wants to roll his eyes, because clearly the kid’s been taking classes in sulking from Noctis. He closes the door behind him, and listens as he walks across the floor to the bed. He expects to hear breathing, or some form of movement. But there’s nothing.

 

He manages to find the light, and flicks it on. He curses, and rips the door back open.

 

“Aurelio’s gone!”

  
  


_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0** _

  
  


_ Princes will be Princes,  _ someone looking like a younger version of Prompto had said half a lifetime ago. Prompto has never managed to find a phrase that’s encapsulated two generations of Lucis Caleum so well, and honestly he’s not particularly interested in finding one. 

 

He  _ is  _ interested in finding Aurelio, who Cor and Nyx managed to track downtown, but no further. He could be anywhere, even with the Crownsguard combing through everywhere like a fine-toothed comb. Gladiolus hasn’t left Noctis’ side on the off-chance this was a kidnapping, but Ignis insists it isn’t - there would be more sound, more struggle, between Aurelio speaking to Noctis and speaking to Prompto. Instead, the window had merely been open. 

 

_ “A rather dramatic attempt to run away, but that line has never been known for anything else. Lunafreya is out looking too, under the guise of checking up on everyone. The idea is that if he sees his mother coming, he’ll hopefully run in the opposite direction, towards the Crownsguard.” _

 

_ “You really think he won’t just vanish for good?” Prompto asks. “No disrespect Noctis, but I’m pretty sure Aurelio’s not in any kind of mood to come home.” _

 

_ “Maybe not, but I won’t have him risked. Bring him back. He can throw his tantrums at home if he wants.” Gone is the gentle father, and here now is the steel-backed king protecting his lineage.  _

 

_ “Yes sir,” Prompto says with a bow. Tracking might be Gladio’s forte, but Prompto’s dabbled in several hobbies over the ten years of darkness - tracking people included.  _

 

Which leads him here, to one of the smaller out-of-the-way food stalls. Because any teenager worth his salt gets hungry and wants to eat at most hours of the day. And Prompto knows for a fact that this particular food stall is one Aurelio tends to visit more often than not. His eyes scan the crowd, his head not moving at all as he does. His back to the wall gives him a wide berth to see from, and very little to be surprised by. He watches the ebb and flow of the crowds, as easy as the tide itself, and when he catches a glimpse of red hair, tries to temper himself with caution.

 

_ Red hair isn’t rare. Could be anyone. _

 

He tells himself that only until the person comes into better view, and then he lets out a low sigh.  _ Bless my instincts,  _ he thinks as he slowly moves off the wall, and starts to move into the crowd. Charging straight towards Aurelio would give him away in a heartbeat. He doesn’t need the boy bolting again.

 

As he gets closer however, he realizes his charge isn’t alone. There’s a girl with him, strawberry-blond and giggling over something Aurelio has said. She reminds Prompto far too much of the girls that used to try to get close to Noctis during school, the ones that wanted him only for his title and not much else. His lip curls up at the thought, and he moves a little faster.

 

And here’s something people don’t like to remember about the enemies of the Crown; they come in all shapes, sizes and forms, and even the most demure looking creature on the face of Eos can be a predator waiting in disguise. Prompto sees the glint of the blade in the girl’s hand, but as far back as he is, he’s helpless to stop it. All he can do is slam the red panic button on his earpiece down, and charge forward.

 

Aurelio never sees it coming, and that’s the worst kind of death.

 

One minute he’s talking animatedly, stepping up to buy something, and the next there’s a slash of silver and a gush of red, and he’s on his knees, clutching his throat as the food vender screams and people panic, one giant mass of people all bolting off to get away from whatever just took one of their number down. 

 

Prompto knows crowd mechanics. He gets to Aurelio’s side just as the tide turns, and everyone starts moving  _ away  _ from him. The girl is nowhere to be seen.

 

Aurelio is dead, his body already cooling. Prompto sucks in a harsh breath between his teeth as he kneels, pushing Aurelio’s head up so the severed line of his neck touches, and then he crushes a Phoenix Down onto the wound, and watches as the powder of the feather goes to work. The flesh knits back together, leaving an ugly, jagged scar in its wake - there’s no stopping that. Death wounds always have that cost. 

 

He breaks a Potion over the kid next, and then a second to be generous. If he were truly angry, he’d leave it at the Down, but he isn’t. More than anything, he feels pity for Aurelio.

 

His charge comes awake with a shudder and a wet cough that sounds nasty, so Prompto turns him and gently rubs his back as clots of blood get hacked up, leaving Aurelio hunched over, one hand to his stomach, wheezing into the dirt.

 

“Prompto?” Gods he sounds young now. Young and scared. Poor kid. “What… what happened?”

 

Prompto sighs. The fallout of death is always the nastiest bit - emotions and memories don’t play along nicely at all, especially not in this case. It’s why he hates the deaths where you don’t see what killed you. If you have a face and a name to go to why you stopped breathing, it makes grasping everything easier. 

 

Especially on the first death.

 

“The girl you were with was an assassin. Probably sent by the group we just finished arresting. She slit your throat.”

 

Aurelio shudders, hunching down more. Prompto remembers doing that too, and Ignis and Gladio had been there with him, gently talking him through the worst of it. Noctis had been off destroying the thing that had killed Prompto in a fit of kingly fury. 

 

“I’m not dead anymore. Did you do that?”

 

“Yes. Phoenix Downs - we all carry some on hand, just in case something goes screwy. Not a lot, but enough for a small team of people.”

 

Prompto keeps a hand on Aurelio’s back as he talks, gently rubbing back and forth to try to soothe the tremors down. It doesn’t seem to be working - if anything, the shaking is getting  _ worse.  _ “Aurelio? Talk to me, please. What’s going on?”

 

“I-I can’t...who…” His breathing is coming out faster now, sharper. His voice, when next he speaks, has swung from Aurelio to  _ Ardyn.  _ “Who am I? What’s going on? Brother? Somnus?”

 

_ Shit.  _ Another thing they don’t tell you until much later - Death rattles loose bad memories. Really bad memories. “I’m here, Ardyn, I’m here. It’s going to be alright.”

 

“Somnus, what’s--- Prompto? Who’s Prompto? Where is he? Where is--” His next words are a language Prompto doesn’t know and can’t begin to understand.

 

“Okay, we’re going home now,  Ardyn, Aurelio,” he says, spotting the Crownsguard coming over. “One of you, call either Noctis or Lunafreya. Tell them Aurelio died--”

 

“I  _ died?!”  _ Aurelio screams, high pitched, before it tapers off into a despairing laughter that makes Prompto want to cover his ears. “Oh, again is it? Well then, how nice for me! It’s a pity I can’t  _ stay  _ dead!”

 

“And his memories are clashing. We need an anchor. Now.”

 

Noctis was Ardyn’s hope then, the touchstone he needed to keep going forward. And in his rebirth, he had been much the same. There’s no reason not to expect him to be the same again. 

 

“We have a safehouse nearby,” one of the Crownsguard says. “We can take him there until they arrive. King Noctis is on his way, and Queen Lunafreya is about fifteen minutes away. They should arrive shortly.”

 

Aurelio sobs into Prompto’s shoulder, muttering curses in a language older than them all, and all Prompto can do is wrap himself around the broken pieces and try to keep them from shaking loose. “Got it.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _What happened to the family fluff?_ I hear you ask. _What happened to Ardyn getting a happy ending, the family getting new lives?_
> 
> My dudes, you are asking the wrong fucking person on that one. I opened up my word document today and the muses had a knife at my throat before I could so much as blink. Your guess is as good as mine.

**6\. Lunafreya**

 

She knows something has gone wrong when they call her. 

 

The panic over Aurelio suddenly choosing to run away was one thing, but the level of panic she faintly hears in the Crownsguard’s voice when he explains what has happened - she can hear screaming, howling in Solheim in the background - confirms what she has feared. Aurelio has died, and his memories have become mixed, confused. He no longer knows who he is, is able to hold the line steady between his past self and who he is now.

 

She and Noctis had discussed this, after discovering who Aurelio was. There was a fragility to souls, especially reborn souls, because there was always a chance that their memories would return, and they would shatter. 

 

Ardyn Lucis Caelum has lived a life longer than most. His scars run deeper, and are far more numerous. Out of all of them, his sanity stands the greatest chance of snapping from a single death. It’s why she and Noctis fought so hard to keep him safe. Not simply because he was the heir of their lines - but because they wanted him to have a happy life, a good life. 

 

Instead, what they have is a Crownsguard shelter, and her son in chains in a cell against the back wall. He’s quiet, suspiciously so, but his eyes -  _ gold, the gold of a man lost to time  _ \- watch everything that happens around him with a predator’s sharpness.

 

They latch onto her as soon as she steps in the door, and she knows.

 

He doesn’t even have to say a word. A mother’s instinct is never wrong.

 

He smiles at her, the daredevil’s grin on the face of the child she birthed long ago. “And where has Prince Noctis run off to?”

 

_ Prince Noctis.  _ Not King. Not ‘father’. Not even ‘dad’.  _ Prince Noctis.  _

 

“He’s on his way.” There’s a tightness in her throat, a pain in her breast that has been expected, somewhat. She never thought she’d get so attached, but that’s not the worst part of all this. The worst part is Ardyn - Aurelio - still holds Noctis’ heart in his hands. “How do you feel?”

 

“Like I’ve woken up after a very long dream.” There’s no condemnation in his tone. He just sounds tired, more tired than she ever thought a person could sound. “A few stirrings, here and there along the way, but always asleep. It’s been a good dream.”

 

“I hope so,” Luna says, fighting to keep her voice steady. “We did the best we could.”

 

“I don’t doubt it. I’m sorry I was such a brat, all those times. Particularly recently. I do apologize for that.” Ardyn’s quiet for a time. “I think I frightened Prompto quite badly. He’s turned into such a strong lad, compared to the string bean he was all those years ago.”

 

Luna feels her lips twitch. She shouldn’t be laughing, but she can’t help it. Besides, it’s just them here - the Crownsguard have cleared out, wanting to give them space. “Gladio thinks so too. Especially considering the amount of weaponry he keeps on him now.”

 

“I do recall that. Two pistols and a larger gun when he was younger. Now it’s… what? Four, five large guns and a few pistols with some knives?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

“How delightfully violent of him.”

 

She hears the sound of tires on gravel outside, and feels her heart stutter.

 

“Ah,” Ardyn says softly. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

 

They both know he’s not talking about Prompto, anymore.

 

“Yes. I’ll… I’ll tell him.”

 

“Do try to be gentle. He’s not likely to forgive me, this time.”

 

She nods, and straightens. She has faced down the Gods themselves, but there is something utterly queasy about facing down Noctis, about stepping outside and meeting his eyes with her own.

 

The sound he makes between his teeth as he bows his head has Ignis and Gladio starting in alarm, and even Cor reaching for him.

 

“Don’t,” he gasps. “Don’t. I can’t. Luna,  _ please.” _

 

“It has to be you,” she whispers, and now she feels her throat tighten, her tears burn. “From beginning to end, it’s always been you.”

 

“No,” he says, and when he raises his face again it’s painted over with determination and despair. “It won’t end, not like this. I won’t let it.”

 

She doesn’t tell him  _ you can’t make someone live who has already set themselves on dying.  _ She doesn’t ask him  _ can you look your son in the eye and deny him what he wants now?  _ She stands by Gladio and Ignis and Cor instead, watching as Noctis walks inside, and tips her head back to the mid-day sun. 

 

When the sky abruptly darkens perhaps fifteen, twenty minutes later, and a cold wind that has nothing to do with the weather or Shiva herself stirs up, followed by the eerie purple glow from inside the hut, she bows her head, and whispers her goodbyes.

 

There will never be another, she knows.


	7. Chapter 7

**7\. Aurelio**

 

From the very start, this is how it was meant to go. He knows that now, with a perfect sort of clarity that should frighten him, but doesn’t. 

 

From the start, Aurelio Lucis Caelum was never meant to see adulthood. And how could he? With the memories of a dead immortal in his head, with parents and family that adored him but a world that didn’t, how else was he meant to thrive? In the beginning, it had been easy to be skeptical, to remember more of Ardyn than Aurelio, to remain sharp and jagged and not let anyone close.

 

But as time marched on, the memories began to slip, until being Aurelio was easier than being Ardyn. Aurelio was softness and warmth, love and kindness. Ardyn was pain and darkness and two thousand years of solitude ended by a boy with a sword. So perhaps Ardyn played himself a little this time, by allowing the softness to mellow him, to cover his defenses and let him drop his guard. His old self would have seen right through that girl, realized that someone suddenly declaring friendship and offering companionship should have been strange, especially in the wake of a mass shooting to try to get at him. 

 

Ardyn Lucis Caelum was not meant for happy endings, for soft goodbyes. From the beginning, his fate has been to suffer, and to cause suffering in turn. The Gods have willed it, and so it must be. Even if some would prefer otherwise.

 

Lunafreya is a darling girl, and motherhood has been kind to her. Ardyn feels pity, a deep sense of childish shame over disappointing her, hurting her like this. She’s doing her best to hold it together, but he can see the cracks showing. Especially when Noctis shows up. 

 

Noctis was the one born to be the Chosen King, to cut the Accursed down. And he did, and Ardyn was put to rest after two thousand years of wandering. Of waiting. Now he is here again, in the skin of a child born from Noctis and Luna, and all he feels is sorrow that he is causing so much hurt again.

 

This should never have happened. Aurelio Lucis Caelum should have died in his sleep, or in the womb, and the world would have been a far better place for it. 

 

Noctis would not hurt, as he throws open the door and glares disbelief and helpless fury down at his child. 

 

“You can’t do this.”

 

“Whyever not?” Ardyn asks, his voice soft. He will not hurt them more than he must. Not when the events of all this are hurting them enough. “I’ve done so before. Think of it like way back when.”

 

“Except I hated you back then.” Noctis drops to his knees in front of him, so they’re eye level. “I told you, back at Galdin--”

 

“A clean slate, I’m aware. But that offer wasn’t to me. That was to  _ Aurelio. _ ”

 

“You’re--”

 

“Ardyn.” His smile is gentle. “Come now, surely you haven’t forgotten my name after all this time?”

 

Noctis stares at him, helpless. He understands, even if he probably wishes he didn’t. What Ardyn is asking for. What he wants.

 

“Why,” he demands of the dirt, head bowed. Ardyn doesn’t pretend he doesn’t hear the crack in his voice, the tears coming up. “Why, after so damn long?”

 

“Because the universe is unkind. Because the Gods are cruel. And because a thing like me only has one kind of ending, Noctis.”

 

“It shouldn’t be,” Noctis sobs. Ardyn would offer him a hug, but his arms are currently chained. He went a little… haywire on the way here. “It  _ goddamned shouldn’t be.  _ I shouldn’t be made to kill my own child!”

 

“No,” Ardyn acknowledges. “No parent should. But we are here now, and we both must play our parts. Pretend I’m still me, if it helps.”

 

“I can’t,” Noctis says. “And it wouldn’t help, because all I see is my son.”

 

Ardyn sighs. Yes, that does rather put a damper on things.

 

“Then,” he says after a moment. “Let’s try this a different way. I am tired. Sick. Dying. The people I ran in with today will not stop hunting me, nor you. But if I die again, I might very well fall so far back into my memories that I will become a wild animal. You will not be able to speak to me, or say your goodbyes as clearly as you can now, because I will be filled with nothing but pain and hatred towards you and yours. You will hurt all over again, suffer, and be faced with the dillema of putting down your child a second time. You will not take it, because hope will tell you I will get better, even when you know I won’t. There will be no dignity to it.”

 

Noctis is still crying. But he’s listening. So Ardyn keeps talking.

 

“As it is, you can think of it like an assisted suicide here. A mercy killing. I am old, and tired, and no longer able to do anything, protect anyone that would help us. I am a bigger threat than I ever was, simply because of the powers I have, and the instability of my mind. If you put me down now, you need only do it once, and then mourn. It will hurt - because such things always do. But you need only deal with it once. The same as when you did the first time. Purge me from existence.”

 

“I can’t--”

 

“You can,” Ardyn says, and this time he hardens his voice. “Because I am giving you my consent to be killed. Do not simply strike me down, Noctis.  _ Erase me. _ ”

 

His gaze drops down to Noctis’ hand, and Noctis unwillingly follows it. They both remember the Keep, the daemons, and the Ring. “It’s like breathing, really,” Ardyn says. “Breathe in, concentrate on your target, and breathe out. Three counts, and done. You’ve wrangled far harder beasts.”

 

“You’re not a beast.”

 

“You’re right. I’m a monster. And it’s past time to put this monster down for good.”

 

For a while, Noctis doesn’t move from where he’s hunched over himself, like he’s been wounded. At last however he drags his head up, and meets Ardyn’s eyes. He sucks in a shuddering breath, and pushes himself to his feet, taking a few steps back. 

 

The Ring of the Lucii glows, murmured snatches of whispering voices filling the air as the ring senses the intentions of its owner. Noctis’ eyes are dry, but there is agony there. 

 

“I love you,” Noctis says, and extends his hand as if to grasp a far-off object.

 

Ardyn closes his eyes as the air grows heavy and cold. Death comes for him now, and just as he told Noctis, it’s as easy as breathing. One. Two.

 

“I know,” he says. The very last thing he says. “Thank you.”

 

Three.

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

_ 16.23.3111 _

 

**_Ignis Scientia:_ ** _ Good morning to you all. It is with a heavy heart I come bearing news of the death of one of our own.  _

 

**_Ignis Scientia:_ ** _ Last night there was an assault on the mall. In that assault, many lives were lost. Their names and ages will be displayed at the end of this program, so that you might take a moment to mourn them properly, and give condolences to family and friends. The reason for their deaths lies at the feet of a terrorist organization known as FPR - Free Person’s Republic. You might know them from their anti-government speeches. Regardless. _

 

**_Ignis Scientia:_ ** _ At the time, the Crown Prince Aurelio Lucis Caelum was within those walls. One of our men was able to escort him to safety. Shortly thereafter however, the FPR located the hideout the Crown Prince was escorted to, killed the guards, and then ended the life of our Prince, before burning the whole place down.  _

 

**_Ignis Scientia:_ ** _ At this point in time, King Noctis and Queen Lunafreya beg your indulgence as we at the Citadel mourn our heir, child, and friend. His was a short life, and we were all blessed to have been allowed to share it. We will take a limited amount of questions - the service will be held a week from today, open to the public. It will be a closed casket ceremony.  _

 

**_Ignis Scientia:_ ** _ We are now taking questions. _


End file.
